


Echoes

by Wheely_Jessi



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Comfort, F/F, Friendship, Goodbyes, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Memories, Multi, Reunions, Songfic, Support, palliative care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23716042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wheely_Jessi/pseuds/Wheely_Jessi
Summary: A canon-era AU where Patsy and Delia head back to Poplar in time to say goodbye to Barbara. Not an entry in my Song Shots series as it's three parts, but based on the songEchoesby Bo Bruce.(Note that Babs is very sick in this, but there's no actual scene of...well.)
Relationships: Barbara Gilbert & Delia Busby, Barbara Gilbert & Patsy Mount, Delia Busby & Patsy Mount, Delia Busby/Patsy Mount, Phyllis Crane & Barbara Gilbert
Comments: 29
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MystWords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystWords/gifts).



> Music and lyrics are here: https://youtu.be/lB9xShYXUy4
> 
> Many of you who read my writing will know I often use it to process experiences. Well, this fic is no different in that regard. I had some sad news about a friend on Monday, and on Tuesday this sort of fell out of me. It's an AU that's niggled at me for a while but I've never been brave enough to write...until it proved absolutely necessary.
> 
> It's also turned into a birthday gift for MystWords, who is an incredibly supportive friend, as we both favour writing that's filled with feelings but is ultimately hopeful. Happy birthday, lovely.

‘You look tired, lass. I’m going to go for tonight. But before I do, there are some strangers who would like to wish you a good evening. I asked Tom if it’d be all right, mind –’

Having listened as patiently as possible for her cue in the conversation, not wishing their dear friend to be confused by their designation as “strangers”, Patsy tentatively pushed the door to the isolation room open, with Delia in tow. ‘Hello, old thing,’ she whispered.

The smile that lit up Barbara’s (still wan) face made all the waiting, and the worried journey halfway across the world, more than worth it. But, after the initial delight, her smile grew a bit stern. ‘What are you doing here?’ she protested quietly to both young women, looking apparently askance at their elder friend and colleague, who had remained seated by her bed. ‘I told Phyllis to tell _you_ it wasn’t worth the effort.’

Patsy watched the usually unflappable nurse purse her lips at the choice of pronoun, then blink, and caught the glance which signalled she should answer in her stead. ‘And Phyllis knew we wouldn’t listen – because _you’re_ always worth the effort, Babs.’

At first it appeared Barbara was still annoyed, since she stayed silent, but then it became clear she was just catching her breath, and her attitude had altered completely – as she chuckled. ‘Phyllis knows everything.’

The three younger women giggled gently together for a few seconds, whilst their elder blushed a brighter shade than they had ever seen, before finding her voice at last. ‘If you’re going to start falsely ascribing divine attributes such as omniscience to my person, the heathen in me had definitely best be off,’ she quipped with a quick wink. ‘Besides, there aren’t many chairs in here, and you three need a good catch up. Within reason, of course, but I doubt I need to remind either Nurse Mount or Busby of that.’

Patsy simply grinned, as Delia put in, ‘Indeed not, Nurse Crane. We’ll see you back at Nonnatus, with any of Nurse Hereward’s orders.’

The quartet paused a moment when Phyllis stood up and, as positions were switched, Patsy pondered the curious comfort they were all taking from the use of their titles. She wondered if the others were thinking something similar, but said nothing until she was sitting and their remaining trio were on a level. Then she murmured, ‘You don’t really mind us being here, do you? We’d hate to take your up your time with Tom.’

That concern was immediately quashed by a faint but forceful headshake. ‘Of course not. I’m thrilled. Truly. I must admit most of my anxiety was that you might not actually make it. I’m only sorry I’ve probably slipped a fair bit since she first sent you news.’

‘Oh Babs,’ both women said on a breath, and Patsy felt her lips quirk up in a bemused grin as they each reflexively reached for one of her hands. Despite – or perhaps because of – having been prepared by Phyllis about her loss of sensation. Then her grin got wider as it was returned, gratefully, the youngest of their three seeming to know that they knew. But the redhead (and the eldest in the room now that there were just two brunettes left) was not entirely convinced their reassurance had been sufficient, so went on. ‘That’s a distinct advantage of commercial air travel, and we wouldn’t have missed you for anything. Especially not after I missed your wedding –’ she broke off, feeling guilty for having brought the situation around to herself when she was decidedly not the focus.

But Barbara merely hummed, offering in a deadpan tone, ‘I suppose this sort of interaction is much more your style,’ before appearing to realise what she had said. ‘Oh gosh!’

Patsy shook her head, smirking as she watched her blush. ‘Black humour from our Babs. You aren’t timid Nurse Gilbert any more, are you?’

Her headshake was matched. ‘I’m not sure I ever was,’ the brunette reasoned, giggling, ‘not really. But that was still unforgivable of me. I think it’s a case of saying what’s on the surface of my mind, because it wasn’t just the journey that worried me for you. I didn’t want you to have any further heartache by saying another goodbye – but now you’re going to respond to that insisting it’s what you do best –’

The ginger cut her off by joining in with her chuckle. ‘Have you _rehearsed_ this?’ she asked, her voice slightly higher-pitched in her awkwardness at the accurate understanding of her character.

Brown hair shook again. ‘No. But _you_ have, and several times over now.’

She could only nod, swallowing, but then recalled a similarity and replied, softly, ‘So have you, though.’

Barbara hummed once more. ‘I suppose I have,’ she agreed, her eyes shining with sincerity, ‘but that means I know what it’s like to be the one left behind. And as I said to Phyllis when we knew I wasn’t getting better, I hate seeing the people I love upset.’ She fell silent and they all sat together, not having nothing to say but knowing there was nothing _to_ be said in answer to such a statement – the painful paradox, Patsy mused, once a particular point of palliative care had been reached. But then Barbara spoke up. ‘We’ve had some fun, eh? Are you sure the memories aren’t enough? Was this really what you needed?’

Patsy paused a moment before responding, not because she had any doubt, but because her mind had fashioned a montage of those memories which was so vivid it might have been from a moving picture. Then she blinked, forcing it to fade, preferring to be fully present in the present – and nodded fiercely. ‘I needed to hear your voice.’

She watched as Delia nodded on the opposite side of the bed. ‘We both did, Babs, _cariad_.’

Patsy’s breath caught at the endearment but she knew just why it had been said – and apparently so did Barbara, because she beamed. ‘All right. You will take care of each other, won’t you? And Phyllis.’

Looking across at her lover, Patsy could tell they were both equally relieved at the chance to displace their own devastation by being asked to look after someone else. So she was unsurprised when they said, in almost perfect unison, ‘Absolutely.’

Because they would. Somehow. And ensure her song would still be sung, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I worked hard to balance the tone of this, so I hope I caught it okay.
> 
> Also, this is somehow the twenty-fifth fic I've published on AO3, either on my own or co-written with other people. It seems quite apt that it's taken me back to where I started - shorter stories exploring emotion - and that it is posted as a gift for one of the friends I've made through my connection to this community. Online interactions are complex for me, so when I found this fandom I never thought I'd write as much as I have, or gain as much as I have through reading others' writing. Not to mention transfer conversations started in comment threads to 'real life'. And, now that everything in that 'real life' is even more in flux than we might have thought possible, I am so very grateful to have this space and that it feels like a refuge. You're all wonderful.
> 
> On that soppy note, I'll shut up, but stay home, stay safe, and stay well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their hospital visit continued, from Delia's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the memory of three people - Catherine, the friend I had sad news about last week, and my friends Helen and Shane, whose birthdays fall on Tuesday 21st and today (25th) respectively.
> 
> But again, I tried to keep the tone as light as possible, and it was going okay until the final line crept up on me. So this has turned into a three-parter. I hope that's okay. I also hope this shorter story is acceptable for now - April is a tricky month for me to get my head around any of my longer storylines, even the fluffier one.
> 
> Posted with thanks for the very kind and supportive feedback on the first chapter. You really are very lovely humans. Stay safe and well <3

‘Absolutely.’

As she said it, locking eyes with the nearly-matching blue pair staring into her own, Delia felt fairly sure she had never been more certain of anything. Even taking into account the shaking of her certainty after her accident. Because taking _care_ of others was what she did best – and the two people in question were two of the most important _others_ in her life. Of _course_ she would look after Patsy (that was nigh on second nature by now, as it was for the redhead to reciprocate). And it was the _least_ she could do to return the support Phyllis had so selflessly offered her.

She might have been sure, but she _must_ have been staring into space, because she almost missed Barbara’s answer to their agreement. ‘Thank you. And you’ll take on my role at Nonnatus when you’re ready, Delia?’

She nodded, suddenly feeling slightly numb, then recollected herself when she realised such a description was downright insensitive given the state of her best friend’s hands and their significance in relation to her request. ‘Of course,’ she replied quickly, hoping she had covered enough, ‘it’ll be an honour.’

Barbara grinned, then giggled, apparently sufficiently reassured to continue their chat. ‘And you’ll have a Grasshopper for me after…’

When she trailed off, her fellow brunette shot a glance at her fiancée for some assistance in recalling the reference, her memory seeming more muddled lately; likely an effect of their travel and the time difference, but unsettling regardless of its cause. Yet Patsy just laughed, biting her lip to stop the sound reaching too far beyond the isolation room. ‘Definitely. We’ll drink to our dear inebriate clergy spouse.’

With those words, however, Delia understood, and let out a giggle of her own. ‘Oh gosh – I was trying to get the transistor to behave that day.’

Barbara nodded, giggling again. ‘You were, yes. And we all appreciated your valiant effort. But –’

‘But what, Babs?’ she asked quietly, watching her friend’s focus drift downwards to her blanket in an unsubtle attempt to hide awkwardness.

‘But, well,’ came the answering mumble. Then Barbara sighed, the whole of her frail frame seeming to shudder with the effort, before she looked up and replied fully. ‘This probably sounds morbid but I’d rather there’s a more reliable source of music when you all gather than Radio Luxembourg.’

Delia only felt able to nod, which made her stomach twinge with guilt even as she also felt the start of a tiny giggle, but thankfully Patsy had something to say at that point. ‘It doesn’t sound morbid to me in the slightest,’ she put in, first stroking the younger girl’s hand, then apparently realising it would not have the effect she wanted and standing up to give her a soft hug instead. ‘To me it’s important to know what you want, so you can tell people, if you have the chance.’

The gently authoritative edge to her favourite voice gave the Welshwoman a way to respond, so she also stood up, and said, ‘I agree,’ as she mirrored her lover’s movements to fold her best friend in a _cwtch_. ‘On that note, any requests?’

Her fellow brunette grinned, nodding into the safety of their shoulders. ‘Yes. Well, not for the service (Tom’s sorting that, although I’ve told him he’s not allowed to lead it) and probably not for immediately afterwards either. But when it’s just – the family – back at Nonnatus, then maybe – do you remember “Teach Me Tiger”?’

‘April Stevens?’ Patsy asked as she pulled away, intrigue evident in her voice.

‘Yes,’ Barbara replied, and Delia pulled away too, equally interested – all the more so as she watched her get very vaguely pink, and heard her go on. ‘It’s a good thing you’ve got a bit of space, and you might actually want to sit down again.’

‘Gosh, Babs, what can be so serious about that song that it’s made you blush?’ she teased as they took up their previous positions.

‘Well, um, Tom will understand why you’ve put it on,’ the youngest began, her voice soft and stilted, before seeming to shake herself and move to a quiet scolding. ‘Golly, no, I have to tell _someone_ else while I can. It’s still too mortifying for me to hold on my own any longer. You know that greasy patch on the wall Sister Monica Joan kept mentioning a while back?’

‘Yes?’ they both encouraged on a breath, and Delia giggled inwardly when they each leaned forwards a little in a physical gesture of support.

Barbara giggled briefly too. ‘It’s from the back of his head. He’d been excessive with the Brylcreem for – well, for a funeral actually – and then _we_ got a tad carried away when I was on call and we were kissing…’

Patsy looked ready to pounce when she trailed off, and Delia was too amazed to manage a coherent sentence, so she let her fiancée have the fun befitting their almost sisterly relationship. ‘ _Nurse Hereward_!’

‘I know,’ the brunette said, simply, her blush growing as she went on, apparently to give more context. ‘That was way before we were married, too, and around the time we were all talking about the Pill. I gave him an earful for having the audacity to moralise.’ They both stared, and her best friend was about to voice her admiration – but before she could it appeared Barbara had something more to add. ‘Now you know you aren’t the only ones who worry you’ll get caught,’ she whispered.

At the cheeky grin which accompanied that statement, Delia watched Patsy pale, but noticed neither of them loosened their grip. Instead, continuing the slightly spooky ability for unison they seemed to have developed, they just said, ‘What?’

Barbara merely chuckled – almost indulgently, or so it sounded to Delia – answering, ‘Oh come on. It’s not as if I’m going to snitch now, is it? I just want you to know I think it’s (you are) perfectly lovely. And for you to promise me you’ll make a proper go of it. At least one of the couples from our set _has_ to have a happy ending,’ she quipped sardonically.

After that, they said nothing, but immediately stood up to envelop her in a hug for a second time. At least, that was what _Patsy_ did, Delia observed wryly. She, by contrast, could only hide her face in her best friend’s neck, trying desperately to conceal her desire to sob with the strangest mixture of relief and regret. She really did not want to let the dearest girl go…either literally, in that moment, or figuratively, whenever it came to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this read okay - and in particular that Babs feels in character. I just a) know that significant things are shared in these sorts of situations, and b) think she's rather more astute than she's sometimes given credit for. Also, P&D need and deserve support!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hospital visit continued, from Barbara's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With so many thanks for the lovely feedback on this shorter venture of mine so far. I hope this final chapter reads appropriately - I felt a bit funny about finishing it without giving Barbara's thoughts the space they deserve. Hopefully the tone is okay, too. I tried to balance it as best as I could again. Fair warning that there are many feels, but this is nothing more intense than a continuation of their chat.

Barbara beamed at their response, content to lie quietly and relish the embrace, despite the slightly odd angle it required the others to adopt. She was glad to have given them her blessing. Not because they needed permission (and she would never be that presumptuous to think she should be the one to provide it if they _did_ , anyway!) but because she wanted them to have some happiness to anchor them in the sea of their all too imminent sadness. And, since she would be the cause of the second emotion, she thought she ought to find a source for the first, as well. None of it was her fault, of course, but knowing that did not make the prospect of her friends’ pain even the tiniest bit easier to bear. Especially when she was becoming aware of a wet patch of rather rapidly increasing size on the shoulder where Delia was resting her head.

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ she murmured into her best friend’s ear, ‘I’m sorry.’

These four words made the Welshwoman pull away – but seemingly only so she could reach comfortably across the bed and take the paper handkerchiefs helpfully being held out by the ever-prepared former Akela standing on its opposite side. Barbara watched as Delia wiped her eyes, exchanging a small smile with her fellow _Englishwoman_ , and waited patiently (the smile growing into a smirk at the cleverness of that inadvertent pun given Patsy’s presence) for the other brunette to be ready to reply.

But, once she did, she wished she had stopped her from speaking before she even began. ‘No, _I’m_ sorry,’ Delia said with a sniff. ‘This isn’t about me.’

‘It _is_ ,’ Barbara insisted, keeping back an oh-so-very tempting tut at the display of guilty self-deprecation. ‘I’ve made my peace. It’s pointless not to, in the circumstances. It took some time, but now the only thing bothering me is the idea that I won’t be around to support all of you as you learn to adjust to my absence,’ she promised, hoping they would appreciate her honesty, and meaning every word. ‘It’s the worst feeling in the world,’ she went on, ‘and, this way, I can at least help a little. So you’re doing me a favour, really.’ She grinned as she finished on that funnier note, hoping the (slightly) older woman would grant her even a feeble smile in return.

She giggled when Delia did offer a brief upward quirk of her lips. ‘In that case, you’re welcome, and consider your soggy gown a complimentary gift,’ her best friend drawled, her demeanour shifting whilst she straightened up and tried to use her extra tissue to mop up the mess she had left. 

‘Thank you kindly, I’m sure,’ she shot back, her serious tone utterly undermined as she giggled, feeling the thin paper tickling the sensitive skin at her neck. But she quickly schooled her features, wanting to sound sincere, and said, ‘I understand. You and I are equally demonstrative.’ Then she paused, deciding to deflect by being funny again, and added, ‘We can’t all be as poised as Patsy,’ before barking out a brief laugh on spying the redhead’s affronted expression looming directly over her. Her humour did not last long, however, because she found herself displaying just such fresh emotion. ‘See?’ she muttered ruefully, as a tear slipped down her cheek, ‘I’m set off now.’

At that announcement, though, Patsy sprang immediately from amused offence to practical assistance. ‘Hang on,’ she counselled, ‘that sort of activity requires an additional pillow. May I?’

Barbara nodded, then giggled again (the combination leading to a totally improper and undignified snort), whilst marvelling at the efficient ease with which her friends completed the manoeuvre; Patsy cradling her head as Delia deftly positioned the second pillow before sitting again. Then her thoughts moved from admiration to surprise when the older woman, having settled her back down, followed in her wake – leaning to press a quick, comforting kiss to her forehead. Once Patsy pulled back, it seemed they were _both_ a bit shocked, so she took her cue to cover on her friend’s behalf. ‘This is like when you tucked me in on my first night,’ she observed. ‘After I’d finally finished throwing up everywhere.’

Apparently that was the right comment to make, because her sister-figure clapped a hand to her mouth to keep what was likely a laugh at bay. ‘It is,’ Patsy agreed eventually, nodding. But then the mirth in her eyes was replaced by a mist, and her next words were, ‘Oh gosh – you’ve got _me_ going,’ as she fumbled for another tissue and sat down to sort out her face.

‘I’m honoured you feel safe enough,’ was all Barbara managed in return.

‘Of course I do, Babs darling,’ Patsy replied, seemingly without hesitation. ‘We’ve shared so much together.’

‘I guess we have,’ she mused, ‘and I suppose we’ve shared even _more_ now you know –’ She broke off, unsure how to end that sentence, but thankfully her fellow brunette jumped in from her.

‘That _you_ know?’ Delia offered with a chuckle, ‘Mhmm, it probably makes it easier, eh Pats?’ she asked, her grin so disarming (and the nickname so endearing!) that the youngest of the three women was in no doubt as to why the usually reserved eldest had been won over. But Barbara was jolted from her internal delight for her friends by the questioning shifting to focus on her. ‘I must admit, though, I’m intrigued about how you figured it out – have we been dreadfully indiscreet?’

She shook her head quickly, despite the fact that the real reason she knew would reveal yet more of her _own_ “indiscretions”. ‘No no,’ she promised, ‘all my fault. You see, before we were married, I used to get up very early to wave to Tom from the window. And, well, sometimes I’d also see _Patsy_ up very early. Mostly just a glimpse – but no-one _else_ at Nonnatus is blessed with such lovely long legs, so it _had_ to be you,’ she explained, directing the last point to its subject, who was apparently stunned and squirming. So much so that, after a pause to giggle, she felt bold enough to go further. ‘I only noticed because my own legs have been my least favourite body part all my life. That sort of thinking feels silly now. But I can understand why you like slacks. They suit you.’

Then, conscious that she was rambling, she threw a desperate look to Delia, who took up the thread again, gleefully. ‘They do. Babs is right. And so will a suit, you know, if we ever get what she calls our “happy ending”.’

Barbara watched as Patsy fought to keep her countenance still and then, with an exaggerated sigh, gave up. ‘Why has everything become about _me_ all of a sudden?’ she squealed, looking playfully stern even as her eyes crinkled at the corners with amusement.

Well, the youngest woman thought, _that_ was a question she knew _exactly_ how to answer. ‘It hasn’t,’ she insisted after barely a breath. ‘It’s about _me_. Because you’re giving me the chance to get excited about the future with you. On that note, Delia, you must _absolutely_ wear a train, no matter how long it takes society to get there. I’ll never forgive myself for so thoughtlessly saying I wanted something “plain, simple and straight”. I knew then, after all, and I should’ve been more sensitive.’

Her Welsh friend stared back at her for quite some seconds, and she began to believe she’d spoken out of turn _again_ , but after a while Delia whispered, ‘You remember that?’

All her worries vanished at the relieved amazement flooding one of her favourite faces. ‘Yes,’ she replied, quietly, then forced herself to speak up for the rest of the sentence. ‘And I want _you_ to remember _me_ as rather less naïve.’

Delia’s surprise turned to reassurance. ‘I’ve _never_ thought of you as _naïve_ , Babs. Earnest and sweet but not naïve.’ Then Barbara heard her best friend’s voice break as tears spilt a second time – down her cheeks now they had nowhere else to collect. ‘Oh gosh, I’m going again. Sorry.’

‘No, _I’m_ sorry,’ Barbara said, faintly amused by their repetition of each other’s earlier sentences. ‘I don’t like to leave you one bit,’ she murmured, reiterating her admission from before and feeling rather like a broken record. ‘Even though I don’t have much choice,’ she continued, making the effort to raise her voice for the important point. ‘It just feels so unfair on you. We’re the same age –’

She broke off that time because brown hair nodded. ‘We are,’ came the wavering agreement of a Welsh lilt, ‘but that means it’s unfair on _you_ , too.’

She shook her own head as forcefully as she could. ‘It might be. But I’m past that. As I said, it’s pointless. I’m just worried about you. Are you going to be all right?’ Even as she heard herself say it, she cringed, knowing it was possibly the silliest of all questions to pose in the circumstances.

She knew _Delia_ knew that, too, of course; but watched as brown hair nodded again. ‘I’ll only be doing what both of you do every day,’ the other young woman observed, with a vague gesture towards Patsy, and a determined grin.

Barbara mirrored her expression, impressed if not completely convinced, and then was struck by the similarity of her friend’s choice of words to those she had used in the aftermath of a situation which was almost the opposite but for which she had been equally unprepared. So, her smile growing, she answered by making a reference. ‘The difference is, we’ve been trained for it.’

It had the desired effect, because they all dissolved into giggles at the memory of the toast around the dining room table – and she had another distinct sense of more recent déjà-vu, as they both stretched for her hands again, chorusing, ‘Oh Babs!’.

How grateful she was that Phyllis had overridden her orders and got them to visit. As she had said several times that evening, she could hardly bear the thought of them leaving, or of shortly “leaving” _them_ , but they had certainly got the most out of their last few moments.

And that made her soul sing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. It means a lot that you chose to join this journey, even knowing the subject matter.
> 
> Stay safe, stay home (if you can) and stay well <3


End file.
